


Cooking Day

by vaderina



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Cooking, M/M, Newt's questionable musical preferences, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 15:40:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9278363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaderina/pseuds/vaderina
Summary: Percival visits Newt in London. The only problem is Newt forgot it was Cooking Day in his case. Cue questionable musical choices, revelations of body art and Theseus bearing witness to what he really didn't want to think about.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta read.  
> Characters don't belong to me, only the typos and mistakes.  
> Just a heads up that the timeline/era is a bit screwy, I sincerely doubt that heavy metal was a thing in the 1920's.

The ship docked in London three minutes after schedule Percival noted with disinterest. Knowing Newt he’d be rushing to get there ten minutes late anyway, no doubt caught up in some creature related incident or other. He took his time to disembark and slowly filtered through the customs stall. Once free of the port he scanned the crowd for a familiar shock of auburn hair. As expected Newt was nowhere to be found though there was a man who looked like a brawny, older variant of Newt leaning against a wall and scowling at the crowd. The man caught his eye, grinned broadly and waved. Percival took a second look at him and almost gaped. It was none other than Theseus Scamander who was now pushing through the crowd towards him.

“Theseus!” he exclaimed, pleased at the chance meeting.

“Percy my friend. Welcome to London.” Theseus greeted him cheerfully.

“I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“You wound me old man. Newt sent me, he forgot that it was cooking day in the case.”

“Cooking day?” Percival frowned.

“Don’t ask. You’ll find out soon enough anyway.” Theseus led the way good naturedly through the thronging masses. Percival mused at this. He’d known Theseus as a pen-pal from school and they’d kept in touch sporadically after that. They’d gone into similar professions before the war effort swept Theseus up. How Percival had never put together the fact that Newt’s older brother was the one and the same as his old friend was beyond him. Newt obviously knew but he never mentioned it. His friendship with Newt blossomed after the younger man had helped track down where he’d been trapped by Grindelwald and stayed by him throughout his recovery. Soon enough though Newt had to return to England to finish writing his book. They had kept in touch by sending letters, experimenting with owls, muggle post and any other creature Newt was inspired to send. Not all his ideas were successful, Percival still shuddered at the memory of a swooping evil landing on his desk with a love note. The looks from his colleagues was quite priceless though so it wasn’t all bad. Theseus pulled him from his thoughts when they stopped in front of a muggle car and he opened the door with a flourish. Percival raised an eyebrow at him but got in, his travelling case pressed firmly between his legs. The other wizard hopped into the driver’s seat with casual grace.

“It’s the easiest way to get home.” he explained as he drove.

“If you say so.” Percival looked at him unconvinced. He’s been in a car before sure, but it was more for the novelty of it than any kind of practicality. “Does Newt ever drive it?” he ventured. Theseus laughed out loud.

“He tries, bless him.”

“Sounds like there’s a story there.”

“So many. They all end in near misses and close calls. Newt leaves half of London traumatised whenever he’s behind the wheel. It would be hilarious if it weren’t me doing damage control after him. Now he only uses it if he is in dire need and it’s not a very sociably acceptable time of day. Fewer casualties that way.”

Percival nodded in understanding. He knew Newt could be competent and fearsome when it came to his the creatures in his care. However he could also stumble on imaginary hazards, trip up the stairs, choke on air and be delightfully uncoordinated at the best of times. He was the most unique man Percival had ever laid eyes on and he was excited to see him again. They’d shared a few kisses before Newt had left with the promise of more when they saw each other again. Though given the fact that Newt seemed to live with his older brother, it might put a slight dampener on their plans. The car pulled up outside a redbrick house in a road full of similar looking buildings. It was so different from New York, Percival was almost tempted to call it a toy town, there wasn’t a skyscraper in sight and everything looked so small.

Once inside the house Theseus shouted for Newt but there was no reply. He stomped through the house, pointing out rooms – Newt’s room, his own room and the guest room. Percival balked at that, did Theseus not know about his and Newt’s budding romance? That would be extremely awkward. Percival hadn’t anticipated having to keep things secretive in the house. Then again he didn’t anticipate anyone else being in the house other than him and Newt. Something must have shown on his face as Theseus smirked but said nothing. Newt was nowhere to be found in the house. Once they’d been round the house completely, his brother barged into his room. It was a chaotic mess. There were clothes on a chair near the window, the bed wasn’t made, notes were scattered around the floor, desk and any other available space. The case was in a small clearing in the middle of the floor. That was what to older Scamander made a beeline for.

“Ready?” he asked, not the Percival knew what he was meant to be ready for but he nodded all the same. The lid of the case flipped open and an ear deafening shriek spilled out into the room. Theseus just laughed at the worried look on his face.

“It’s cooking day.” as though that were an explanation. The smells which drifted out after the horrendous noise were somewhat more palatable. The aroma of rich spices, stewing meat and other unidentifiable items curled up into the room. Theseus was already barging into the case shouting at the top of his lungs for Newt to turn the racket he calls music down. It took a moment for Percival to follow – this was what Newt called music? Sounded like pots being banged together and someone screaming bloody murder. That was no music, it was the theme tune to torture in Percival’s humble opinion. He was more inclined to listen to whatever was number one on the radio charts, it was pleasant, forgettable and easy to ignore if it called for it. Before he could muse any further on this the music changed from screaming metal to rap. The sudden change gave him a headache and musical whiplash. Newt was a peculiar man. He was standing in what he remembered to be the entrance shack to the habitats in the case, only it was huge now. There were pots boiling over, cauldrons steaming and chopped ingredients on every surface in neat piles. Newt was bouncing between pots, a half-eaten apple hanging from his mouth.

“NEWT!” Theseus bellowed. “WE’RE HOME.” The man in question turned and with a wave the music fell silent. Percival took a moment to really look at the younger man. He looked good, his shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, sweat was clinging to his skin in droplets that were begging to be licked off. There were a variety of smudges on his exposed skin including an odd black line disappearing into his shirt which had the top two buttons undone. Newt smiled wide round his apple before he bounded over, sweeping Percival into an unexpected hug.

“And I thought I was your favourite.” Theseus grumbled. Newt turned to give him a crushing hug and ruffle his hair with a laugh. He then turned back to his various cauldrons. Some were stirring continuously while others had ingredients floating into them at random intervals. Percival’s curiosity got the better of him.

“What are you making?”

“This is two weeks’ worth of food for my case. It takes a whole day to get meals sorted for everyone.” Newt explained, arms milling wildly around him as he spoke. Theseus leaned against a counter with his arms crossed, he looked on with mild amusement.

“Please tell me you didn’t cook for us.” he teased. Newt blushed and glanced behind him to a counter. On it sat a plate piled high with the most vile looking fuzzy crumb tower held together with green slime.

“It’s very nutritious and as long as you don’t look at it, it’s almost palatable.” Newt mumbled.

“You eat that?” Percival looked at him incredulous. Newt looked away in discomfort with a shrug.

“It keeps me going and really isn’t as bad as it looks.”

“What my dear brother is trying to say is that it’s an acquired taste and he will not force it on us. He eats that gruel out in the field when he doesn’t want to waste time on unnecessary things like eating.” Theseus cut in. Newt tried to protest but the next minute steam erupted from a covered pot and water shot up in an arc. Percival shot forward on instinct, trying to shield Newt from the sudden threat. Instead they both got drenched in suddenly cool water while Theseus hooted in the background. However Percival was distracted. Newt’s white shirt had become see-through from the water. He’d never seen Newt shirtless before and judging by the way the shirt clung to his chest he’d been missing out.

However the thing that caught Percival’s attention the most was the blurred outlines of black and colour that showed through the shirt. He shifted his hand to trace the line he’d spotted earlier. Newt pulled back and blushed before he could uncover the pattern properly. Theseus had gone quiet and tense in the background.

“Newt?” Percival asked, “You okay?”

“Just fine, thank you.” Newt looked him dead in the eye in a challenge. “I think I need a new shirt though.”

Without further ado he began to strip, his eyes never leaving Percival’s, defiantly judging his reaction as he slowly undid the buttons. Percival swallowed thickly. He’d imagined Newt shirtless before but he never could have guessed how wrong he was. The sopping shirt hit the ground and Percival looked his fill. Newt’s body was littered with tattoos. Some of them were names and dates, others were larger picture that looked like they may be hiding scars. It was beautiful. He took a step towards Newt, hands reaching out to trace the tattoos. Newt stared back, his eyes had softened to curiosity from fierce challenge. It was a sight to behold. Percival’s brain stuttered to a halt when his eyes caught sight of the nipple piercing.

“So, you like heavy metal and have been hiding tattoos all this time?”

“And rap. Anything loud with a beat you can move to really.” Newt shrugged. Percival’s hands touched his side and Newt shivered, eyes closing for a brief moment.

“Aaaand I think that’s my cue to leave.” Theseus cut in. The two other men sprang apart, blushing. Percival was distracted by Newt’s full body blush he unconsciously licked his lips. Theseus cleared his throat as he turned to leave. Before his head was out of the case he turned around for a final parting blow.

 “I’m guessing I shouldn’t have made up the guest bedroom either.”

His mad cackling followed him out of the case.


End file.
